


tien's thoughts about baseball games

by vhscassette



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: M/M, saiyan saga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-28 19:45:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14456436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vhscassette/pseuds/vhscassette
Summary: when tien witnessed the explosion that snuffed out yamcha's life, he took a moment to think.





	tien's thoughts about baseball games

Yamcha had died in an explosion of beautiful, eye-piercing blue light.

It wasn't to say that Tien didn't see it coming. Tien had an instinctual urge that somehow, not everyone was going to make it out of this alive. He had even talked to Chiaotzu about what he should do if Tien were to get himself killed, of course much to Chiaotzu's fear and dismay. As a deep-settling sorrow filled his heart with the passing wind, Tien almost heard his own voice in the back of his head mumble a quiet, "so _this_ is what death feels like."

 Their relationship was something of odd acceptance, really. They never had a 'talk' in their youth, so to speak, but rather an intricate binding of sorts that consisted of how long their shadows splayed against Kame House during sunset. Their bond in their earlier years consisted of a specific loud voice giggling far too loud in empty, sunset-spilled outfields. It consisted of humid summer nights at Kame House, sitting outside on the beach mere inches apart, unable to explain further exactly quite what they wanted to be or what they couldn't. Their relationship consisted of words unspoken, words that god knows Tien wished he knew how to say.

 Tien remembered one summer evening, long before Saiyans were a race and not a strange mispronunciation of 'sane', that Yamcha had hit what looked like another successful home run. He dashed across the dust and into first base, black hair long and uncontainable, just like him. Tien had sipped his soda casually as Yamcha sprinted quickly, too quick according to the couple beside him, through second and third base. Yamcha then tripped, stumbled into the ground in his attempts at recovery, and then proceeded to get caught out.

 "You know I was just playing around, Tien! People were getting suspicious, I could feel it!" Yamcha defended himself, an embarrassed flush splattered across his face, after the game. In response, Tien raised his eyebrows and chuckled after a few moments of quiet 'uh-huh' staring.

 Yamcha visibly bristled like a small cat at Tien's wordless accusation and picked up his metal bat with both hands, slowly getting into position to swing. "Y'know, home-run's don't always gotta use baseballs. I could always just use that big ol' head of yours as my next target," Yamcha teased with an annoyed but amused smirk.

 Tien waved him off and muttered, "You wouldn't hurt me for nothin'. You can't even focus enough on the ground ahead of you without stumbling."

 Yamcha, of course, ended up _loudly_ offended and chided him with a grin as they walked home, dragging his metal bat against the sidewalk. Tien remembered how the twilight sun paved the cement sidewalk a faint purple hue as the temperature slowly dwindled to a refreshing coolness. Streetlights slowly blinked on and illuminated Yamcha's still-chiding face, his black hair a little flat from sweat and his cheeks dusty from his hasty stumble.

 "And then you have the _guts_ \--can you imagine, Tien -- the _guts_ to just, y'know, make fun of _me_ \--and you _saw_ me out there, Tien,--," Yamcha argued, very obviously wanting to cause a scene and embarrass Tien, "making a _big ol'_ mess of myself in front of a crowd of twenty thousand people!" Tien remembered his face beginning to flame, feeling the burning eyes of a few people walking on the opposite side of the road. Yamcha noticed and, giggling under his breath, yelled to them, "What a jerk, am I right?" The tiny group of people, young adults as it appeared, laughed, obviously relating to the silly 'argument' that this strange man in a dirty baseball uniform was throwing out.

 Tien felt prickles of second-hand embarrassment and, strangely enough, fondness swell up in his throat as he punched Yamcha in the shoulder. "Shut up," Tien had mumbled, all three eyes nervously glancing to the side. Yamcha yiped at the shoulder punch and froze before walking a few steps ahead. Just as Tien was seriously worried about offending Yamcha, Yamcha had turned around to face him, getting almost hilariously up in his personal space.

 "Or _what_ , Tien?" Yamcha, eyes shimmering with over-dramatic amusement, chided. "Or what? What'cha gonna do?" he continued as he stepped further, voice increasing in volume and _definitely_ finding some sort of enjoyment out of ruffling Tien's feathers. Tien kept taking steps back before it was obvious that Yamcha just wanted to play.

 He just wanted to play, was all.

 

Tien had loved him so much.

 

* * *

 

Yamcha's burned, charred corpse began cooling on the hard ground as Tien took a deep breath, ignored the aches in his chest that nearly split him wide open for the world to see, and looked away.

 


End file.
